


decoration.

by bitterheart



Series: namkianga. [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 19:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21081680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: Gilgamesh wants Enkidu draped in the finery they deserve.





	decoration.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thimble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/gifts).

It's Gilgamesh who suggests it one lazy morning, lying in bed as he watches Enkidu get dressed in what will amount to their third attempt at leaving their quarters so far today. They've both gotten distracted the two previous times, any items of clothing they've managed to put on eventually coming back off in their inability to keep their hands to themselves. 

In all the time Enkidu has spent in Uruk, their clothing of choice remains their simple robe and it's not the simplicity of the garment that bothers Gilgamesh; he knows that Enkidu could wear anything, or nothing at all, and their breathtaking beauty would remain unchanged. Perhaps it's something more selfish than that. Perhaps, Gilgamesh allows as he mulls the thought over, it's entirely self-serving. It doesn't stop him from giving voice to the thought all the same.

"We should get you some new clothes." 

Enkidu doesn't pause as they get dressed, simply humming inquisitively and replying with, "Why? I don't need any." 

"My home is yours now," Gilgamesh gets to his feet so that he can walk to Enkidu, placing his hands on their shoulders and pressing his face to the nape of their neck. "I thought of you wearing the clothes I wear, and I won't think of anything else until I've seen it." 

"Your clothes?" Enkidu asks, tipping their head back to rest it against Gilgamesh's shoulder as they give him a sideways glance. "Your choice of clothing is…"

"Yes?" 

Enkidu wrinkles their nose with a smile. "Your style is yours. I would not imagine to imitate it." 

"Then perhaps I could convince you to complement it?" Gilgamesh presses. "We are a matched pair, you and I. It would be satisfying if people were to look at us and understand it immediately. But more than that, give me the satisfaction of draping you in gold and silks."

"Ah, so you can be honest after all," Enkidu teases, turning around to rest their hands on Gilgamesh's chest. "A king seeking a sheath for his favourite sword."

"Oh, I believe you've helped me find that already," Gilgamesh smirks, and the way Enkidu looks at him makes him certain that they're going to fail their third attempt to leave their quarters. 

"I doubt I am worthy of all that," Enkidu answers at last.

"And I know you are," Gilgamesh replies. "Indulge me. I know you're good at doing that." 

Enkidu kisses him instead of replying, lips pressed against the corner of Gilgamesh's mouth to tease, to distract. Gilgamesh pulls them back by their hair, savouring the low gasp that it earns him. 

"Say you will," Gilgamesh murmurs against their mouth. 

"Take me to bed again," Enkidu replies, "and I'll decide after." 

It's late in the morning when Gilgamesh finally attends to his duties and even later in the afternoon when he's done with them. Still, he makes the time to organise clothes and jewels and gold, all of them arranged in a room with seamstresses who will work to his satisfaction. 

Enkidu looks at all of it, sighing at Gilgamesh. "I suppose I did agree to this."

Gilgamesh stands back, watching as Enkidu is draped in silk and fussed over, looking entirely unused to this kind of attention. They were right about not suiting the style that Gilgamesh prefers to dress in, but even when they try on clothes that are more understated and suit them better, they still don't look convinced. 

"Isn't this confining?" Enkidu asks, tugging at the pants that they try on. "They look lovely, but it's not as easy to move in them."

"Something looser?" Gilgamesh suggests. 

"Perhaps," Enkidu replies, still unconvinced. They take the pants that Gilgamesh hands to them, holding them up and eyeing them critically.

"If this isn't working," Gilgamesh says, fighting his pride down, "there's no need to continue."

Enkidu looks at him then, their gaze considering, before they turn to the others in the room. "Leave us for a moment, please." 

The seamstresses take a command from Enkidu the same as they take one from Gilgamesh, dispersing immediately until there's only the two of them left in the room, surrounded by rich materials and ornate clothing. 

"You're disappointed," Enkidu says gently.

"I'm not," Gilgamesh lies. When Enkidu raises an eyebrow at him, he sighs and looks away. "You said at the very beginning that you didn't need this." 

"And you said that you wanted to dress me," Enkidu replies. "So why are these seamstresses dressing me instead? I was expecting something more personal." 

Gilgamesh blinks slowly. "Are _you_ disappointed?" 

"I thought I had the promise of your hands on me," Enkidu tells him. "Naturally, I am disappointed you haven't touched me even once."

"If I did…" Gilgamesh begins, not needing to finish his sentence. This morning was enough of an example of what happens every time he gets his hands on Enkidu. 

"We no longer have an audience," Enkidu points out. "If that was what stopped you. Undress me, Gilgamesh, and show me what you'd rather I wear."

Gilgamesh's mind works through several perverse answers before he finally nods, his hands going to Enkidu's waist and pulling their pants down. He kneels to guide Enkidu's feet out of the material, letting Enkidu steady themselves on his shoulder. 

"Next?" Enkidu prompts, as though expecting Gilgamesh to become distracted. 

"These." Gilgamesh crosses the room and picks up a pair of pants. They're a looser fit, the material dark but thin. He holds them to Enkidu, leaning back to assess his choice. "Put these on."

He goes searching again as Enkidu gets dressed, returning with a sheer blouse. It leaves Enkidu's stomach exposed but Gilgamesh supposes that if he is dressing Enkidu according to his own preferences, he might as well be self-indulgent. 

Enkidu smiles at him when they see it. "This one?"

"It won't restrict you," Gilgamesh points out. "There are no sleeves. No extra material for you to get caught up in. Perhaps it won't be so bad."

Enkidu lifts their arms for Gilgamesh to help them into it, and hums with surprise. "It's very light." 

"Because it's barely there," Gilgamesh murmurs, reaching out to brush his fingers against the hem of it. "You look beautiful." 

"Is this what you wanted?" Enkidu asks.

"This is just the beginning," Gilgamesh replies. "If I could have my way, I would drape you in gold. Jewels. Everything, so that people would understand just how precious you are to me."

"I don't need any of that," Enkidu laughs. "But, if it's important to you, then I'm happy to let you try to convince me. I believe I was going to have your hands on me?" 

"Of course," Gilgamesh replies, stepping closer and running his hands over the stretch of bare skin between Enkidu's pants and their blouse. 

Enkidu lets out a pleased hum, wrapping their arms around Gilgamesh in return. "You're already making a very strong point in favour of this blouse." 

"As I said," Gilgamesh grins, pulling them into a kiss, "this is just the beginning."


End file.
